


Episode 5 - The Fires of Pon Farr

by RobertBruceScott



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek - Various Authors, Star Trek RPF, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M, Philosophy, Politics, Pon Farr, Psychology, Space Battle, The Moon - Freeform, future earth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-06-28 09:43:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19809706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobertBruceScott/pseuds/RobertBruceScott
Summary: Episode 5 brings the crew of the U.S.S. Hunter to Earth:Kauai Island, Hawaii (for T'Lok's funeral)Providence, Rhode Island (Kenny Dolphin meets with his younger daughter)Nairobi, Kenya (the Capital city of the Federation)Pichilemu, Chile (surfing with Dr. Carrera and the engineers)The Moon (Federation database)St. Petersburg, Russia (home of the Federation Center for Justice)Utopia Planetia Shipyards in orbit of Mars (upgrades to the U.S.S. Hunter)





	1. Kauai Island, Hawaii; Providence, Rhode Island

**Star Trek Hunter**

With the threats from the Borg and the Dominion receding and the Romulan, Cardassian and Klingon empires each in shambles, the United Federation of Planets is the undisputed military and economic hegemon of the Alpha Quadrant.   
Scattered across more than a thousand worlds, the two-hundred-odd member species of the UFP - led by a burgeoning human population - are experiencing peace, prosperity, freedom and justice unprecedented in the history of any civilization… 

Until a doctoral dissertation by an obscure professor of Philosophy at Harvard University exposes a flaw at the heart of the Federation - and rocks the mighty UFP to its core.   
These are the stories of the U.S.S. Hunter - a Star Fleet patrol vessel - and its small crew of brilliant misfits who are charged with cleaning up this awful mess… 

Original story by Robert Bruce Scott

5 - The Fires of Pon Farr

_“I think everyone who knew the late T’Lok Smith would say she was the best of us. It almost seems inevitable that our species are merging. And if the result is more people like her, we will all be the better for it.” Dr. Kenny Dolphin, Interview on Subspace Radio Ivonovic._

5.1  
Kauai Island, Hawaii;  
Providence, Rhode Island 

A steady drizzle gradually soaked the grass and dripped from the fronds of giant palm trees. Behind the Smith estate on Kauai Island, great ridged mountains, partly covered with trees arose like gigantic red and green cathedrals. On the bright orange sand the Hunter’s crew, the Smith family and a few other Hawaiians and vulcans were gathered. There was no chanting.   
The clouds gradually lifted and the drizzle cleared away. The morning sun made the Pacific Ocean sparkle with a million colors. Members of the Hunter’s crew, the Smith family and various friends paddled out into the becalmed ocean, some on surfboards, most in outriggers. Dr. George Smith, a retired music professor, sat behind his wife, Ev’Lon, an elderly vulcan woman, in an outrigger. Their sons, seated in front and behind them, appeared to be a blend of their father’s native Hawaiian looks and their mother’s strongly vulcan features. They paddled out with the rest, forming a ring of surfboards and small boats. Somehow, they managed to join hands until a great, unbroken ring was formed in the calm waters. Stories were passed around the circle, then T’Lok’s brothers rowed her parents into the center of the ring, where her mother and father, each holding one handle of the urn that contained her ashes, gradually poured her remains out, onto the water.  
George Smith raised his voice, speaking so that everyone could hear him - his strong Hawaiian accent: “This is the place that she loved and this is the place she will remain. To you gathered here, you are now her legacy. May your lives be filled with love and joy as her life was. May you fill the lives of everyone around you with love and joy as she did.” His voice cracked and he was unable to go on. Quietly, so that only those close to him could hear, he said, “Aloha, my daughter…” His wife placed her hand on his arm and quietly echoed, “Aloha, my T’Lok.”  
Dr. Smith regained his composure and found his voice again. “This is not a moment for sadness. This is a moment for joy. Her voice is now this ocean’s voice. Listen to her. She is calling you to a life of love and joy. If you make that your life, if you fill your life with love and joy, as she did, you will, as she did, bring that love and joy to the lives around you.” He paused to regain his composure again, then managed, “And this world will be better because you were here.”  
Each outrigger contained bundles of flower petals and those with surf boards had brought many leis. T’Lok’s brothers began spreading flower petals over her ashes as they swirled and sank into the clear waters. Within minutes the area had become a giant ring of flower petals and leis, before the people gathered broke ranks and made their way back to shore, skirting the circle to avoid disturbing the brightly colored arrangement floating in the waves.

“Dad?”

The aching beauty of Kauai Island and T’Lok’s funeral were suddenly replaced by stark white walls. Rain pattered on simple windows. “Starlight?” Kenny Dolphin asked of the young blonde woman in front of him - a concerned expression on her face. He blinked hard a few times.  
The young woman sat back down.   
“This is now. This is where I am now,” Dolphin said, blinking again. His mind was a mess. The blonde and gray stubble on his face had grown into something between stubble and a beard.  
“Are you okay?” the young woman asked, looking even more concerned.  
“I will be,” he responded. “Just keep talking to me. I need to anchor myself.”  
“Anchor yourself?”  
“In time…” He responded, his voice trailing off, then, “Where is T’Lon?”  
A bitter expression crossed the young woman’s face. “You mean your vulcan girlfriend?”  
“I suppose you could say that. There really isn’t a word for this type of relationship,” Dolphin responded.  
“She’s upstairs. I think she’s a little crazy. I really don’t want to know,” Dolphin’s daughter responded. Then, almost immediately she stood up and started pacing: “No, that’s not true, I do want to know. I mean, don’t you think it’s extremely hypocritical of you? Getting on everyone about interspecies mating and then being with that, that teenager?”  
“T’Lon is older than you are. She’s older than River. Where is River?”  
“Probably as far from here as she could get, if she knew you were here.” Starlight sighed and sat back down. “She’s in New York. With Mom and Da.. With Mom and Charles.”  
“This is Providence,” Dolphin mused, then caught another concerned look from his younger daughter. “You never actually read my dissertation, did you? Or my books - either of them?” Dolphin didn’t need an answer, her expression made it clear she hadn’t. “Everyone thinks they know what I think. They all have copies of what I wrote. But no one actually listens to what I said. No one actually reads what I wrote. They think they know me based on what other people say about something I wrote nearly 15 years ago.” He suddenly saw a 7-year old girl in front of him with tears in her eyes. A 6-year old girl with stars in her eyes.  
“Starlight,” he said quietly to himself.

“Why did you name me that?” she asked. “Starlight Dolphin. River Dolphin. Why not normal names?”  
“It’s why I wanted to be a pilot. Only two weeks ago…” Dolphin’s hand strayed to his new beard… “or was it three - I was laying in the sand on another world, looking up at the stars. So beautiful, so peaceful,” He mused, almost to himself. “My favorite thing in the universe,” he said softly, eyes unfocused. “Starlight.”  
His daughter caught her breath.

Dolphin focused on his daughter again, answering her other question. “She’s in pain, Starlight. Terribly afraid and alone. This is amok time for her. The fires of Pon Farr, the seven-year vulcan heat cycle. It brings madness. This is her first time to go through it. And she just lost her childhood friend - we buried her in Hawaii. Vulcans pay a terrible price for their famous emotional self-control. The same thing that made their amazing culture possible also made them a dying race. When they made first contact with us, they numbered about four billion. There are less than two billion of them now. In a thousand years, they will be gone. Somewhere deep inside they know that and it makes their heat cycle that much more desperate.”  
“I don’t understand. I thought you said humans interbreeding with vulcans was making them go extinct,” Starlight said.  
“That is not what I said. You really should try actually reading my books. We aren’t causing their extinction. We’re hastening it. Until they encountered humans, the idea of having sex with another species was beyond imagination for vulcans. For most other humanoid species we have encountered as well. Most of them have normal heat cycles between 6 months and a year. But their cultures require them to mate for life, so if their mate’s heat cycle doesn’t match, they are less likely to have children. In their natural state, mates on the same heat cycle would find each other. But with culture that becomes problematic - vulcans betrothe at birth or very young for political reasons and they often end up with mismatched cycles. Which leads to low birthrates and often shortened lifespans, suicide…”

Dolphin realized he was almost lecturing, but Starlight was actually listening intently for the first time and he wanted her to understand this. “Suddenly humans became available as sex objects for lonely, stranded, spacebound, desperately horny vulcans.”   
Starlight actually laughed.   
Kenny Dolphin smiled - for the first time in ages it felt like. “Humans are different. We’re always in heat. Vulcans quickly discovered that having a willing human sex partner during Pon Farr made it a much easier time for them. Vulcan customs prohibit it, but they’re all doing it anyway. With the predictable result that in every generation, vulcan/human hybrid births vastly outnumber vulcan births. In a hundred years there will be more hybrids than vulcans.”  
“We aren’t making them go extinct. We’re their only hope for survival. In a thousand years or less, we will essentially become one species,” Dolphin concluded.  
Starlight took a moment to digest all of this, then focused on her father. “So now you’ve become a sex object for a vulcan teenager?” she asked incredulously.  
Dolphin laughed, but there was a bitter edge to it. “I should have seen it coming. Hell, I wrote about it. They were grooming me from the moment I set foot on that boat. My first officer even warned me about it, in an oblique sort of way. I blundered right into it. I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this.”

5.1

Crew of the U.S.S. Hunter: (Ship's Interactive Holographic Avatar - Hunter)

At-Large Appellate Justice, Captain Minerva Irons  
Chief Executive Officer - Commander David Pepper  
Chief Operations Officer - Lt. Commander Mlady

Medical Director - Lt. Commander Tali Shae  
Asst. Medical Director - 2nd Lt. Jazz Sam Sinder  
Ensign Chrissiana Trei  
Forensic Specialist - Midshipman Sif  
Forensic Specialist - Midshipman Tolon Reeves  
Emergency Medical Hologram - Dr. Raj  
Tactical Medical Hologram - Dr. Kim

Director of Flight Operations - Lt. Kenneth Dolphin  
Asst. Flight Dir. - 2nd Lt. Gaia Gamor  
Navigator Johanna Imex  
Navigator Eli Strahl  
Ensign Ethan Phillips  
Chief Flight Specialist Dewayne Guth  
Flight Specialist Dih Terri  
Flight Specialist Joey Chin  
Flight Specialist Winnifreid Salazaar  
  
Director of Ground Operations - vacant  
Asst. Ground Ops Dir. - 2nd Lt. Tauk  
Investigator Lynhart Shran  
Investigator Buttons N'gumbo  
Ensign T’Lon  
Tactical Specialist Jarrong  
Tactical Specialist Belo Rys  
Tactical Specialist Belo Garr  
Tactical Specialist Belo Cantys

Director of Engineering - Lt. Sarekson Carrera  
Asst. Engineering Dir. - 2nd Lt. Moon Sun Salek  
Midshipman Tammy Brazil  
Transporter Engineer K'rok  
Ensign Sun Ho Hui  
Flight Engineer Yolanda Thomas  
Flight Engineer Thomas Hobbs  
Flight Engineer Tomos  
Flight Engineer Kerry Gibbon


	2. Episode 5.2 - Nairobi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hunter's First Officer takes several crew members to the capital of The Federation - Nairobi, Kenya - to recruit a VIP to help with their mission to capture the 2nd Breakfast Killer (BK2.)
> 
> _Mlady hated crowds and remained close to Pep and Tali Shae, keeping her tiny figure effectively hidden. While the others were walking in a sea of people, Mlady, so much shorter than her tall companions, was walking in a dense forest of legs. It made her nervous. She had to call on a reserve of self-control to keep her claws from becoming exposed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Africa is the least developed continent and home to a billion people. It is the cradle of our race and the UN projects that Africa's human population will quadruple to 4 billion by the end of this century. It only makes sense that in the time of Star Trek, Africa will be home to the newest, cleanest cities on Earth and that the capital of the Federation be located somewhere near the cradle of mankind.
> 
> It is also worthy to note that Africa is the treasury of human genetics. Africans are far more genetically diverse within the continent than are all other humans, despite the apparent differences in appearance. So-called native European, Asian and American populations are descended from that minority of Africans who emigrated first to Asia Minor, then to the rest of the world. If an arc were to carry a few thousand humans to the stars to populate a new world, for best genetic diversity, 80% of those on that arc should be Africans.

5.2  
Nairobi, Kenya

David Pepper was needed on another continent. Mlady and Dr. Tali Shae were with him, along with Ethan Phillips, piloting them in the wagon. Gaia Gamor came along as well, fresh from visiting her family in Ingende, deep in the rainforest of Congo. Air routes over Africa were very heavily regulated and enforced. But the wagon’s sensors made it possible for its passengers to view large segments of the continent. Gaia was using a large display in the rear of the flight booth to provide sweeping views of pristine wilderness, carefully tended farmland and teaming cities, speaking like an excited tour guide. Phillips, although part African American, had been raised on Vulcan. This was his first time to visit Africa. He interrupted Gamor with a single word, “Nairobi.”

Various departments of the United Federation of Planets were scattered in cities all over Earth, the unquestioned capital and home of the UFP. Star Fleet Academy was in San Francisco, but Star Fleet headquarters was in Dubuque, Iowa. Most of the Federation offices were in Nairobi, Kenya, which also hosted the United Earth Congress. Earth had become the fabled paradise of the Federation and if Africa, the cradle of mankind, was its greatest treasure, Nairobi was the crown jewel of the Federation. From the sky the city looked like a great forest with giant buildings carrying shrubbery and flowers high above the trees. The city’s economy was so vital, stable and omnipresent that many of its citizens didn’t even realize it had one.  
As the wagon joined a curving path of incoming aircraft and shuttles, its passengers were treated to views of towering buildings with gardens on balconies and rooftops, vast city parks, and rows of residences that looked more like collections of gardens than collections of buildings. A closer view revealed a city on the move like an ant colony - teaming millions of people bent on their individual destinations, making use of hundreds of thousands of bicycles, but predominantly traveling on foot. Gone were the vast paved highways of the 21st Century, replaced by elevated railways that connected city to city and to the farms in between.   
This was the African miracle that had allowed the continent to more than double the area reserved for primal and reclaimed wilderness at the same time that its population exploded from one billion to more than six billion - while allowing its burgeoning human population to live in much greater comfort and economic stability than at any time in human history.

In the midst of this vast and diverse population, Pep stood out in much the same way an elephant might stand out among a herd of horses. There were a few men almost as tall, but no one anywhere near as big. Ethan couldn’t get enough of his first views of the capital city from the streets. Gaia had spent her last year at university in Nairobi and felt quite at home. Tali Shae also felt comfortable in these crowds as Nairobi was not only a capital city, but a space port, home to large populations of non-humans and the antennae and white-blue skin of other andorians could be seen among the human throng - most of them, like Dr. Tali Shae herself, carrying umbrellas to protect themselves from the mid-day African sun.   
Mlady hated crowds and remained close to Pep and Tali Shae, keeping her tiny figure effectively hidden. While the others were walking in a sea of people, Mlady, so much shorter than her tall companions, was walking in a dense forest of legs. It made her nervous. She had to call on a reserve of self-control to keep her claws from becoming exposed.   
It was a twenty minute walk from the shuttle port to the governmental center that had brought them here. They found themselves looking at one of Nairobi’s many green skyscrapers - this one with a blend of vulcan and antique Romanesque architectural features distinctive of UFP office buildings. Emblazoned in large, neo-classic letters: Non-Localized Communication Studies.

5.2


	3. Episode 5.3 - Pichilemu, Chile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An impossible task with a more impossible deadline has been laid on the U.S.S. Hunter's engineering department. 
> 
> So Dr. Carrera takes them surfing...
> 
> _"I think he's finally snapped," Dr. Moon Sun Salek observed, her eyes just a bit wide. The fact that even the assistant director of engineering, who had worked with Dr. Carrera longer than anyone, thought their director might have actually gone goofy, was of no comfort the rest of his staff..._   
> _Gamely, one by one, and in no small part because Carrera had never yet led them astray, first Dr. Moon, then Ensign Sun, then flight engineers Tomos, Kerry Gibbon, Yolanda Thomas and Thomas Hobbs picked up their boards and followed their director into the surf..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the idea of these nervous engineers following their director into the surf even though they think he might have just totally lost it...

5.3  
Pichilemu, Chile

The U.S.S. Hunter was undergoing upgrades at the Utopia Planitia shipyards, in orbit of Mars. Lt. Tauk had requested that the boat's computer be upgraded in order to process an almost astronomical amount of data. Investigator Shran had requested an additional and very unorthodox weapon to be added to the already formidable arsenal on the Hunter's tactical unit.   
In order to accommodate the mass balancing program developed by Flight Engineer Tomos, several cargo bays were being redesigned for ballast storage. Calculations for the amount of ballast required for the boat would also need to take into account the possibility of adding prisoners to all of the brig units simultaneously.   
Additionally, results from the Hunter's first successful flight in recursive warp mode had identified several weaknesses in the main nacelle underneath and the twin nacelles of the tactical unit. Without a complete overhaul, these weaknesses could cause the nacelles to fail catastrophically at high warp with results far worse than just the destruction of the boat with all hands. Additional armor was being added to vulnerable sections, including deck 5, in hopes of decreasing the chance of another hull breach during combat.  
All of these modifications would result with a considerable increase in mass for the Hunter, which meant the zip drive calculations that had brought the Hunter to Earth would have to be scrapped and new equations started from scratch. Additional operational requirements from Commander Pepper specified that additional calculations be prepared for the Hunter's platform and tactical units to enter zip drive separately and for the Hunter to be able to maintain zip drive while launching the wagon (and losing its mass) and independently launching the interceptors and the tactical unit.   
This increased the number of separate zip-drive calculations from just one to thirteen. It also required mass stabilization standards for the tactical unit, the wagon and each of the interceptors.   
And the whole package had to be ready in five days.

So Dr. Sarekson Carrera took his engineering department surfing.

On the beach of Carrera's hometown of Pichilemu, Chile a small crowd of nervous engineers watched, entirely mystified as their young director paddled his board out into the surf, seemingly oblivious to the impossible mathematical and engineering task before them and its even more impossible deadline. He had required all of the flight engineers to be present, leaving only the transporter engineers, headed by Midshipman Tammy Brazil, to supervise the Hunter's retrofits at the Utopia Planitia shipyards more than 140 million miles away in orbit of Mars.   
Not only were the flight engineers ordered to be on the beach, out of uniform, and, specifically required to take at least three rides on the waves before midafternoon, their Quixotic director had also strictly forbidden them from discussing the boat's ongoing upgrades, the impending deadline for the required calculations or anything mathematical in general unless it directly related to surfing.  
"I think he's finally snapped," Dr. Moon Sun Salek observed, her eyes just a bit wide. The fact that even the assistant director of engineering, who had worked with Dr. Carrera longer than anyone, thought their director might have actually gone goofy, was of no comfort the rest of his staff.   
The order to go surfing did not present any particular difficulty as under Carrera's expert tutelage, everyone in the engineering department, including 100-year-old Tomos, had become at least competent, if not expert on a surfboard.  
Gamely, one by one, and in no small part because Carrera had never yet led them astray, first Dr. Moon, then Ensign Sun, then flight engineers Tomos, Kerry Gibbon, Yolanda Thomas and Thomas Hobbs picked up their boards and followed their director into the surf.  
Four hours later, the team were tearing hungrily into bowls of chupe de jaiba and washing it down with Mungku beer. The beach was crowded, but the Hunter's engineering team were located on a small promontory from which they could see nearly the entire beach and they were enjoying an authorized wood fire. Evidently Dr. Carrera knew somebody who knew somebody - very few fire pits were allowed on the beach. The insurmountable problems and insane mathematics involved in getting the Hunter into zip drive under a wide variety of conditions seemed 100 million miles away. In fact, they were almost 149 million miles away, in orbit of Mars.

"Ensign Sun," Carrara started, "I've been re-reading your proposed dissertation. I think the time has come for you to resubmit it."  
Sun raised an eyebrow. "Most of my committee were in favor of it, but Dr. Bowman said that the physics of my theory could not be tested and that I should re-apply to the school of Philosophy.”  
"And he was correct, if a little unfair," Carrera said. "Even Professor Crumar thought your work was more than sufficient to be accepted by the Daystrom Institute, much less the University of Chile."  
Sun took a breath. "Unfortunately, it would be disingenuous for me to attempt to resubmit through Daystrom..."  
"I wasn't finished," Carrera interrupted. "Professor Crumar and I had a little talk with Dr. Bowman. He was right.. Until three days ago. Once the Hunter successfully entered recursive warp mode, it was possible to test your theory. In fact, it was helpful in identifying weaknesses within the recursive warp field. Those findings are being used right now in the modification of the Hunter's warp nacelles. I have gone so far as to recommend that the specific repairs we developed for the main nacelle be officially named the Sun Retrofits. You still have time to resubmit your dissertation this evening."  
Dr. Carrera handed a communications pad to Sun. "Specifically, you have fifteen minutes. I estimate the entire process will take twenty seven seconds."  
Ensign Sun Ho Hui took the communications pad, almost scuttled back to his seat and hunched over it.  
Carrera continued. "Of course, Dr. Bowman will receive credit for discovering your talent, encouraging your work and mentoring you and you will not dispute his claims. In light of the notoriety your breakthrough work will bring to the University and especially to their Warp Field Theory department, Dr. Bowman plans to present you with your degree during a special hooding ceremony at the extension campus in Talco tomorrow afternoon. May I be the first to say, congratulations, Dr. Sun."  
"I have completed my resubmission. But I wonder," Sun began, "and not to be ungrateful, whether I have my theories to thank or your intervention."  
"Then you weren't listening to what I said about Professor Crumar. Neither he, nor I would have intervened if your dissertation did not merit it. Humans play games, Hui. You have to know the game in order to win at it. Dr. Bowman knew quite well that your theory was sound and that you deserved your Ph.D. But he was not about to just hand it over to you because he also knows who you work for. By holding out, Bowman put himself in a position to gain from final acceptance by posing as your mentor and sponsor and to wring other concessions from me and Professor Crumar. And you will play this game if you are wise."  
"It hardly seems logical," Sun Ho Hui protested.  
"It is coldly logical," Carrera countered. "The cold logic of personal gain. But that personal gain will also bring new resources and notoriety to the University and its theoretical and applied physics divisions. Which will benefit future students. So you will fake a smile, shake the man's hand, and prepare yourself for a future that includes Dr. Bowman. But don't you ever trust the man. Not for one second."

Carrera turned to the rest of his staff. “Churros?”   
Almost as if by magic, he produced a platter from a low table behind his chair.  
In the aftermath of the churros and the spicy chocolate cinnamon dipping sauce that came with them, Dr. Moon addressed the question still burning in everyone's minds. "Can we finally talk about those calculations?"  
Dr. Carrera looked at Dr. Moon for a very long time, slowly, dramatically raising one eyebrow. Even though she was a quarter vulcan, Moon did not have the emotional reserve of Tomos or Sun or even Carrera - the moment stretched out forever. She was simply astonished when her director smiled. Carrera never smiled.  
"I knew you couldn't do it," Dr. Carrera said. He took a deep breath, released it, then said, "Okay, just so you can all relax and actually get some sleep tonight, I will tell you this much. When Pep gave me all those permutations I realized there was no way we could develop all those equations in five days. We couldn't do it in five months if we were to use all the mathematicians at the Daystrom institute. So I lied. I told Pep we would get it done and I gave up."  
"That's the important part," Carrera continued. "I just gave up. I just stopped trying to solve the problem. That's when it came to me - and I have Tomos to thank for it. We've been going about this the wrong way. We've been trying to make the math work for the ship's mass."  
He paused. His engineers just stared at him. Only Tomos, the old vulcan librarian who had the least engineering experience and education, seemed to have a dawning understanding. "So we're not going to do that. Instead of making the math work for the mass, we're going to make the mass work for the math. There's a sweet spot. I can see it. It's so elegant it will make you cry. Not just thirteen permutations - twenty eight permutations. And I can express every one of them in 100 characters or less."  
Dr. Moon boggled at him. "The equation that got us to Earth was almost 1,200 characters.."  
"I told you," Carrera replied, "so elegant it will make you cry. I have it all in here." Carrera held up the communications pad he had retrieved from Ensign Sun. "All 28 permutations. So what we have now isn't an insurmountable series of math problems. Tuning the engines to get Hunter into zip drive will take minutes. What we have is a series of entirely manageable logistics problems - balancing the mass as needed for each of the available permutations. We can easily get that done in four days. We will probably have it done in two. So drink another Mungku and let's talk about family or surfing or anything except engineering. We'll go over the equations in the morning and start work on the Hunter once Dr. Sun is officially hooded."

5.3


	4. Episode 5.4 - On The Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lt. Tauk gets bored after failing to obtain needed data from the Federation Data Center on the Moon. So he challenges his companions to a foot race... In moon grav.....
> 
> _Shran had to take a few minutes to cough and wheeze before the group made their way back to the central operations center, only to find a scandalized ensign in a blue uniform waiting for them._   
>  _"Are you insane??" she was almost shaking with rage. "No running in the hall!!"_   
>  _"I didn't see a sign..." Lt. Tauk started._   
>  _"You shouldn't need a sign!! Were you trying to kill yourselves in there? Next time you want a foot race in moon grav, put on an EVA suit and do it outside!!!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to insert at least one or two largely playful segments into each episode.

5.4  
On The Moon

Lt. Tauk was on the moon. For the first time ever, he had challenged his investigators to a foot race - a 200 meter sprint. This was in part out of boredom and in part mischief. He, Shran and Buttons had gone to the Star Fleet Intelligence center on the moon in hopes of furthering the research they had started on the Hunter, only to hit a series of brick walls - or more specifically, legal obstacles involving privacy rights of citizens.   
If he had been dealing with the Consumer Studies Division on Ferenginar, Tauk knew whom to bribe and how much to provide each official. But this was the Federation and access to the data he needed could only be obtained by Justice Irons and from the increasingly astounded looks Tauk was receiving as he described the data he would need for his investigation, Irons was going to have to pull off a miracle of legal wrangling, bureaucratic navigation and general arm-twisting.  
Belo Cantys and Belo Garr had also accompanied them and had both also agreed to the foot race. Belo Rys and Jarrong were in Rhode Island, looking after T'Lon and Dr. Dolphin - both of whom seemed to still need considerable looking after following their brush with death in the escape from Ocean.

"So you get to specify the conditions of the race..." Buttons Ngumbo was understandably rather suspicious of the ground operations acting director. "Those don't involve tying my hands behind my back?"  
"Under normal conditions, you would win anyway," said Tauk, smiling. "No, we will all have the same limitations. This is just a normal foot race... From here... To the data storage center entrance." Tauk pointed to a separate building, located about 200 meters away, connected by a hallway.   
On the door leading into this hallway was a sign emblazoned: Caution - No Artificial Gravity In Corridor.  
Investigator Lynhart Shran laughed, then said, "You're on, Boss."

For the first time in his life, Investigator Buttons Ngumbo was at a serious disadvantage in a foot race. He took one step and slammed hard against the ceiling of the corridor. Shran fared considerably better. He had been trained in zero G and low G combat (if long ago) and managed to navigate the corridor in more controlled leaps.   
But this was a race between the ferengi and the two tactical specialists. Belo Garr and Belo Cantys had both had extensive training in low G combat and with more controlled, smaller leaps swiftly passed the old veteran.   
Tauk's strategy involved using his hands as well as his feet. His first leap carried him not only forward but diagonally toward one of the walls. He twisted as he travelled forward and his next step was against the wall, propelling him forward, upward toward the ceiling and toward the other wall. He slapped the ceiling with his hand, helping to twist his small body - significantly smaller and lighter than the Belo siblings - into a full turn, allowing his next step to be against the other wall. This caught him up with the siblings, who were running in more or less a straight line. He slapped the floor and took his next step against the other wall.   
By maintaining this bizarre, zig-zag tumbling pattern, he was able to make contact with a surface far more often than the runners, accelerating with each contact until he slammed into the door at the end of the hall, grasping the handles to keep himself from being propelled back into the corridor.  
When Buttons finally made it, laughing, to the end of the hall, he said, "I'm not sure that counts as a foot race. You were using your hands."  
Tauk smiled mischievously. "Be glad you didn't bet anything on this. You were using your hands too. You must have hit the ceiling at least four times."  
Shran had to take a few minutes to cough and wheeze before the group made their way back to the central operations center, only to find a scandalized ensign in a blue uniform waiting for them.  
"Are you insane??" she was almost shaking with rage. "No running in the hall!!"  
"I didn't see a sign..." Lt. Tauk started.  
"You shouldn't need a sign!! Were you trying to kill yourselves in there? Next time you want a foot race in moon grav, put on an EVA suit and do it outside!!!" The outraged ensign threw her hands up and stormed off, seething disgust.  
Lt. Tauk turned back toward his team with a rueful grin, only to be met with poorly concealed laughter. Shran was red-faced and in tears, hardly able to breathe.   
"I could rig a hall monitor for them if they're so concerned about running..." Belo Garr observed dryly.  
"What on earth was that strategy, anyway?" Ngumbo asked.   
"Nothing on Earth," Garr quipped.  
"Applied mathematics," Tauk said. "I had that hallway measured out long before we started. I could have told you exactly where you were going to hit the ceiling. The only thing I didn't take into account was how well Shran was going to do, but I should have figured. As many battlefields as you hit, you must have hit space a lot."  
"I've put on an EVA suit and fought on a few moons." Shran said. "If I were 20 years younger I might have given you a run for your money. Math you say? So you knew every step you were going to take?"  
"Every step, every slap. That was the easy part. The hard part was making my body do it," Tauk said.  
"Remind me never to play billiards with you," said Shran.  
"Billiards?" Tauk asked, innocently. "What's billiards?"  
"Not a chance, Boss..."

5.4


	5. Episode 5.5 - St. Petersburg, Russia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dewayne Guth takes his captain to the Interplanetary Center for Justice in St. Petersburg, Russia, where she meets with one of the three Chief Justices of the Federation Tribunal.
> 
> _“All right, all right,” Chief Justice Bashir was still laughing. He was a small man evidently of Middle Eastern origin, but with a strong British accent. “We knew there was no other way for us to get to Ivonovic without calling his hand on his homecourt. And your team was probably the only one that could pull it off.” Bashir’s expression turned serious. “But we paid too high a price to learn about his cardassian connection.”_  
>  _“We could end up paying a far higher price,” Irons responded. “That cardassian battlecruiser is still out there..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Julian Bashir has gone into law and become one of the three Chief Justices... Because that is the position Section 31 needs him to take as the Director of the organization...
> 
> And Julian will return in Episode 11... And prove to be one rather scary dude...

5.5  
St. Petersburg, Russia

Chief Guth was having fun, unexpectedly. Justice Irons was riding second seat in the interceptor and had asked him to show her what the craft could do. They jumped out to Minerva, the farthest flung planet in Earth’s solar system and the Justice’s namesake. Then to Mercury and finally, after a whirlwind tour of the planets and a few other unique locations in the solar system, to the home of the Federation Tribunal, the Interplanetary Center for Justice in St. Petersburg, Russia.  
The Justice Center accepted very few interceptors - flying in that airspace required special permits that could only be granted at the highest levels. Landing an interceptor in front of the most consequential building in the Alpha Quadrant - that was a unique experience for Guth. Justice Irons patted the top of his head as she managed to clamber with some difficulty out of the cockpit - her right hand still in a splint.  
Guth smiled - Irons had decided some very important cases and had become a folk hero to hybrid trills. Of course those precedents were challenged on the basis of her own trill ancestry, but all of her decisions were upheld at the highest level - and those decisions had been made in this building.  
Planetary home rule had its limits for Federation member worlds.

“Chief, I hate to ask, but I may need to leave in a hurry. Please stay close to your bird,” Irons said.   
“Aye, your honor,” the chief responded. His attention suddenly shifted to the person waiting for Justice Irons. “Is that…”  
“Yes, Chief. Alas, we do not have time for introductions,” Irons smiled and walked toward the robed man standing on the steps of the ICJ.   
Under the Federation Charter, the Tribunal was headed by three chief justices, representing the three founding races of the federation: human, vulcan, andorian. These three together constituted the final arbiter of Federation Law. They were rarely called on to make such decisions or to be more precise, they very rarely accepted appeals from the general tribunal. The human chief justice - the most recently confirmed of the three - was waiting for Justice Irons.  
Chief Guth was astounded to see his captain storm straight up to the chief justice and start poking him in the chest, gesturing and talking excitedly. The supreme magistrate laughed and retreated backward in front of this onslaught. Within a moment he whirled and led Irons in through the cavernous front door of the Interplanetary Center for Justice.

“All right, all right,” Chief Justice Bashir was still laughing. He was a small man evidently of Middle Eastern origin, but with a strong British accent. “We knew there was no other way for us to get to Ivonovic without calling his hand on his homecourt. And your team was probably the only one that could pull it off.” Bashir’s expression turned serious. “But we paid too high a price to learn about his cardassian connection.”  
“We could end up paying a far higher price,” Irons responded. “That cardassian battlecruiser is still out there. I warned the Challenger. But the battlecruiser has an enormous advantage. We only escaped because of the zip drive. Something other Star Fleet vessels don’t have - yet.”  
“Admiral Stewart has dispatched a couple of escort class vessels to rendezvous with Challenger. That should even the odds. Star Fleet wasn’t thrilled about investing so much in escort class ships, but they become more vital and useful all the time. Your boat, although smaller, will probably take even more resources given the new drive system.”  
“Sorrows of empire. That’s why I recruited you, Julian,” Minerva Irons had a serious look. “After nearly 300 years, the Federation is about to face the gravest threat in its history - itself.”  
“I do wish you wouldn’t speak in riddles, Minerva,” Julian Bashir responded. “Is it true that you put Dr. Kenny Dolphin on your crew? I didn’t even know he had found his way into Star Fleet.”  
“I intend to recruit him.” Irons replied. “I think you can imagine the value he would bring.”  
“I shudder at the prospect, actually,” Bashir responded. “And before you start, I did actually read his work. He’s brilliant and he’s right. My concern is that he was so casual about its publication. He should have known the firestorm he was about to touch off. Can you trust his judgment after a blunder like that?”  
“He is a surprisingly talented officer and by all accounts a gifted pilot,” Irons said. “But his personal life is a disaster - I suppose that makes him a classic candidate for a career in Star Fleet. So, in answer to your question, it depends on the situation. He would need managing. But I’m not thinking of a role like yours or mine. Something much more specific. A tool to be used at just the right moment for just the right purpose. Not a caller of shots.”  
“I have a hard time being as clinical about this business as you, Minerva.” Bashir actually shuddered.  
Minerva Irons smiled. “That is precisely why we need you at the top, Julian. Slade was right. In times like these when you’re tempted to skirt the rules at every turn, we simply must have someone of your character making the final decisions about when it’s truly warranted.”  
Julian Bashir bit his lip and looked down for a moment. Then: “How many of us on your boat?”  
“With Dolphin, it would be four.”  
“That’s a rather high concentration.”  
“It is needed,” Irons concluded. “By the way, I need you to clear a records request so that my Lieutenant Tauk and his team can complete their investigation.”  
“You’re asking me in person, which means I take it that this is one of those tough calls you were mentioning?” Bashir’s eyebrows were raised.  
“Not much, really. We just need all the complete transporter transcripts for all Star Fleet vessels operating on the Romulan border, around Deep Space 9 and near Star Base 11 for the past five years. As well as the full transcripts for transporters on private and commercial vessels operating in the same areas. We also need complete medical histories of every person on board the U.S.S. Enterprise, the U.S.S. Vox, the U.S.S. Challenger and Deep Space 9 - again for the past five years.”  
Bashir’s eyes kept getting wider as Irons’ records request went from completely unacceptable to beyond belief. “What.. Wait…” Bashir stammered, then managed, “What on earth do you need all that data for? I’m not certain if there is any way I can grant that request.”  
“How’s Ezri - has she given birth?” Irons asked unexpectedly.  
“She’s fine and yes, we now have a Jodiah Bashir,” Julian answered.  
Justice Irons ran her fingers across the left side of her head, which she kept shaved to display the faint spots that marked her own trill heritage. “And does he have spots?”  
“Not as dark as Ezri’s,” Bashir mused, “but darker than yours.”  
“And just how badly do you want to catch the Breakfast Killer?” Irons asked. “Strip the names and use demographic identifiers.”  
Bashir put up his hand and shook his head. “Demographic has become a dirty word these days. I would have an easier time just directly transferring individually identified information.”  
It was Justice Irons’ turn to be surprised. “Everyone loves demographics - foundation of planning. What’s going on?”  
“Population statistics have been getting harder to obtain.” Bashir responded. “Those numbers hold a secret someone doesn’t want anyone to know about. Okay - I’ll come up with something. But I want you to use that information to find out what has someone so alarmed.”

5.5


	6. Episode 5.6 - Ivonovic Trapped - Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emory Ivonovic is in a gilded cage. Actually, the Star Fleet brig was more comfortable...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For notes about the milieu in which I am writing, see the following post, entitled Star Trek Hunter - Background Information
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/19427671/chapters/46236358

5.6  
Ivonovic Trapped - Again

Governor Emory Ivonovic paced in yet another cell. Actually, this one was a stateroom and very opulently adorned. But the visual splendor of the room was its only redeeming feature. There was a lot to dislike about it - starting with the locked door. The bed was hard and lumpy. The chairs were hard and shaped almost exactly wrong for the human body. The food smelled awful and even the water was brackish. There was no shower - apparently he was expected to rub his body with a variety of rather grim looking oils. Ivonovic didn’t bother to unstopper the oil bottles - he had a fair idea already what they would smell like - bad. 

Worse yet, the room was about 5 degrees Celsius too warm for comfort.  
It was hardly surprising these people didn’t trust him. He never trusted them. But he could do business with them. Hopefully the value of his business and the amount of business he could bring would be enough to ensure his safe delivery to his supporters.

5.6


	7. Episode 5.7 - Malloriah Uhr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pep has recruited a powerful telepath to help the Hunter's crew with the hunt for the telepathically endowed 2nd Breakfast Killer (BK2)
> 
> _“Details… details..” Mallory waved her hand impatiently. “Okay, I didn’t read Dr. Fishy’s work, but I have a good picture of it - he doesn’t have a problem with hybrids. He just thinks it’s a good idea for humanity to stop and think for a moment about your policy of screwing every sentient species you encounter that walks on two legs. Or, in some few cases three legs or four…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mallorca Uhr became a runaway favorite character among my beta readers...

5.7  
Malloriah Uhr

With the Hunter’s upgrades complete and the recursive warp programming ready two days ahead of schedule, the crew had been recalled from Earth to Mars. The wagon had been dispatched back to Earth to pick up the last group from North America.  
Pep, Mlady, Dr. Tali Shae, Dr. Carrera and Tauk were seated at the antique teak table in the executive conference room. Another person sat across from them - a small, round, older woman with dark skin wearing a flower print dress, horn rimmed glasses, a severe expression and a mass of unruly iron gray hair tied up in a bun. Out of habit, they all rose when Justice Irons entered the room - all except their new visitor.

Pep gestured toward their visitor, “Your honor, I’d like to introduce Malloriah Urh”  
“Urrh,” the severe looking woman corrected, sounding and looking like an old-fashioned school marm.  
“Urrhh,” Pep tried.  
“No. Urrgh”  
“Urrg,” Pep responded.  
“Not Arrgh - I’m not a pirate - Urrgh. Kind of like an Arabic ghuh”  
“Urrgghhh”  
“Urrrrgggghhh”  
“Urrrrrgggghhh”  
“Urrrrrgggghhhh”  
“Urrrrggghhh…” they said together, almost in unison.  
“Not bad, that’s close enough,” Malloriah Urh said.  
“Urrgh,” Pep said quietly, still trying to master the sound.  
“You should have stopped while you were ahead. Anyway, you can call me Mallory.”  
Justice Irons and the others in the room had watched this odd exchange as if they had been watching a tennis match.  
Malloriah Urh turned to Irons and speaking at a rapid clip, said, “You are very pleased to meet me and it was no trouble for you at all for me to cancel my classes and clinical hours and fly all the way from Nairobi to Mars to join your little witch hunt.”  
Irons responded evenly, “You are correct - it was no trouble for me at all.”  
Mallory smiled briefly as though she had finally encountered a kindred spirit. The smile lifted years from her face for only a second, then the stern look returned. “Okay Judge, let me get this straight… You added the one and only Dr. Kenny Dolphin, the Man who Broke the Federation, celebrated by naturalborn movements throughout the Alpha Quadrant as the galaxy’s greatest hybridophobe, to your crew because you thought it would be a good idea. In less than a week he’s nearly murdered one of your hybrid crew members and now he’s screwing your vulcan security officer…”  
Pep coughed and tried desperately not to laugh.  
Irons rolled her eyes. “You’re leaving out the bit about this powerful telepath who has been making humans murder human/trill hybrids, the fact that Dr. Dolphin is not actually a hybridophobe - is that even a word? - and the vulcan officer in question is going through Pon Farr…”  
“Details… details..” Mallory waved her hand impatiently. “Okay, I didn’t read Dr. Fishy’s work, but I have a good picture of it - he doesn’t have a problem with hybrids. He just thinks it’s a good idea for humanity to stop and think for a moment about your policy of screwing every sentient species you encounter that walks on two legs. Or, in some few cases three legs or four…”  
Pep snorted again, squeaking with repressed laughter.  
Mallory focused on the giant officer with the intensity of a laser. “Laugh it up, big boy. 180 years ago your girlfriend was a quadruped.”  
Pep was holding his sides and trying not to slide out of his chair. Tauk gave him a strange look. Dr. Tali Shae was laughing silently and nodding, her antennae twitching.  
Mallory continued speaking at tremendous speed, “So Goldilocks has this kill command in his head that your vulcan assassin, who is also a betazoid assassin who you’re calling BK2 put there using a series of mind-melds. Only I can’t find any evidence of such a mind-meld. But considering I haven’t gotten within 2,000 miles of him yet, I haven’t been able to perform a detailed scan. He and his vulcan girlfriend have tried to find it a few times themselves, but they keep getting distracted.”  
Pep had finally managed to start breathing again.  
Mallory continued without missing a beat, “So now those poor, sick love puppies have just left Rhode Island along with their honor guard of street kids. That poor young vulcan is experiencing a very rough Pon Farr. Fortunately, she chose a middle aged human to help her through it - someone with a well-established personality. Your Dr. Kenny has been through some heavy crap - he’s weathered a few storms. A younger human wouldn’t have the kind of emotional strength and experience T’Lon needs to keep her mind centered. The tradeoff is that he’s no spring chicken and that girl is nearly three times stronger than he is. He needs medical attention and the remainder of this process should be medically supervised.”  
Dr. Tali Shae responded, “I’ve been preparing a brig unit for them. I can beam him out of there if he is in serious danger. I’ve also been thinking about binding her toward the end of this process so she doesn’t accidentally crush his spine.”  
“Both good ideas,” Mallory said. Her voice had a crisp sound and she spoke very quickly. “He will be in serious danger wherever he is. She has occasionally taken control of his muscles…” Malloriah Urh’s voice trailed off - she laid her head back and rolled her eyes. “They’re in one of the brig units on the wagon - they’re going after it right now!”  
Pep coughed hard, putting his cup down, choking on his water.  
“You have no idea what’s headed your way” Mallory continued. “That poor girl is having an unusually fiery Pon Farr. Combine that with what a powerful telepath she is - her brain is foaming out lust like a hot Champaign bottle. In about nine months Rhode Island is going to have a baby boom like nothing they have seen in centuries. I’ll do what I can to counter the effect when they get here, but you need to get ready for a deluge of, what do you call them? Dissertations? Declarations? Disclosures… You need to get ready for a deluge of disclosures because your crew are going to be screwing like squirrels.”  
By this point Pep was gasping for air, tears in his eyes. Tauk laughed, then started coughing helplessly. Tali Shae was also laughing. Mlady was smiling a bit too widely, unintentionally displaying a few of her fangs. Dr. Carrera was blushing violently.   
Irons looked concerned. “That will seriously impede our mission…”   
“As I said, I will do what I can to mute the effect so it should be manageable. But I’m going to want a boyfriend or two before this is all over,” Mallory said.  
“Can’t breathe,” Pep managed to squeak, then he managed a few heaving, gasping breaths, still unable to stop laughing.

5.7


	8. Episode 5.8 - The U.S.S. Challenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A debris field in space...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Stephen King's writing style and can't help emulating it on occasion. King can creep you totally out in three sentences just by describing other people's reaction to something he has not yet described...

5.8  
The U.S.S. Challenger

Commander Lashonda Williams’ left hand was raised, fingers splayed to ward off some attack - a look of terror frozen on her features. Her mouth was open in a silent scream - a bubble of mucous frozen around her lips. Stars reflected in her wide open eyes. Her right hand and everything below her waist were missing - some entrails trailed out below where her body was largely cauterized by the disruptor beam that had removed her lower half - a splash of blood had gushed out only to be flash frozen in the near absolute zero of space.   
Below what was left of her body was a debris field. There were a few other partial bodies and very few large pieces of debris. One of the largest was just under her, a piece of a hull - a partial serial number on the outside - 014 - and just below that, a partial name - LENGER…

5 - The Fires of Pon Farr


End file.
